


The Siren Call of the Sea

by imparfait



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imparfait/pseuds/imparfait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James isn't sure who is calling to him louder - Lily or the sea</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Siren Call of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pirate Phiclet Phest on LJ. I am apparently incapable of writing anything that doesn't involve Sirius Black now-a-days, even though I chose James Potter as my character. Oh, well. :) The James/Sirius is kind of not there, but if you squint you'll see why I said it.

Somewhere, at sea:

The sunrise brings Sirius shouting down into the hold for him to wake up. It's not that James is lazy, it's that he likes the nights out on the sea and stays up maybe too late for a dawn wake-up call. Sirius doesn't stop until he's up and at least half dressed – he barely has his trousers done all the way up before Sirius gets annoyed and hauls him onto the deck. There's work to be done. Remus is checking the navigation charms and he can smell something cooking; that's Peter's forte, and James' stomach growls thinking about it.

The sea is open and endless in front of him. They've been out of port just long enough that the whole horizon is blank. Even the birds hardly venture out this far. The ship is slicing through the ocean and the air is salty and sharp in James' nose.

He remembers the night before, watching Sirius disappear below the deck and then staring out into the blank darkness of the ocean. He'd wanted to go home then; the open sea had a siren call but there was another red-haired mistress thousands of miles away that still ate at his thoughts.

He writes to her sometimes, edited notes that leave out all the good bits. He doesn't talk about raids or treasure maps or the pile of gold sitting down in the hold. He tells her about ruins and the odd, native foods. He didn't tell her about the cannibals, or the fleet of Spanish ships that almost overtook them before someone remembered the invisibility charms.

If she writes back, he doesn't know. The Royal Couriers can be paid to carry his letters on, but finding him is nearly impossible.

Sirius shouts across the deck at him, something lost in the whipping wind. They're going faster than they ought to; pirating with magic has its advantages. James stares across the deck for a moment, squinting into the rising sun, before Sirius bounds across the distance.

They're headed for a tiny island, an old trading stop that has long since closed down. There might be treasure there, or maybe some ruins he can tell Lily about. Remus, forever a historian, will probably manage to dig up something he deems important. He usually does. It's not about the treasure for him, though nor is it for the rest of them. They wanted an adventure and they'd found it, just the month they'd planned for turned into six and that into three years.

He wonders if Lily's settled down with someone. He wonders if she even reads his letters. Three years is a long time to wait for someone and there have been others for James, nameless women at port that he never sees again. He wouldn't blame her. He couldn't.

He turns away from Sirius (not that he was listening anyway) and looks out into the empty horizon again. There's adventure out there, and that's a sure thing. He's got his mates and his treasure and the whole world at his fingertips. There's freedom here that he can't get on land.

Sirius touches his shoulder – his fingers are hard and calloused, not like they were before when Sirius was all refinement and upper-crust snobbery – and James turns. Sirius watches him for a moment with trepidation. His hair is done up in a bandanna, tangled and coarse from the salt water. James wills himself not to blink because somehow, he thinks, if he does, Sirius will know everything.

Sirius falters first and looks away into the sunrise. He squints against it and offers, softly but not so low that it gets lost in the wind, if James wants to go home.

James squeezes his eyes closed against the wind and the salt and the bright orange sun. He can smell Peter's cooking and Remus is shouting at the sails. There's a hold full of treasure below his feet and all around him is adventure. He misses Lily; he longs for her sometimes – especially at night when he curls up alone in a cold bunk – but he could never give up this. Sirius' fingers curl into his shoulder, nails biting into James' skin. It doesn't hurt.

 _I am home_ , James tells him and when he opens his eyes, Sirius' smile drowns out the sun.


End file.
